Neil Goldberg: Progress Bars
Neil Goldberg: Progress Bars Read More »
Last week, I emptied out my storage locker and brought everything here to my apartment. I don't have much except the Y'all archives, which consist of several boxes of videotapes, recordings in various formats (many of them obsolete), and a couple boxes of memorabilia, mostly things given to us by fans: drawings, letters, cards, etc. I feel like the curator of a very important collection. . . .
One thing I unearthed is a watercolor sketch my grandmother made many years ago, in the 60's I think. It's a panoramic view of the downtown intersection near where she lived in Waukegan, Illinois when I was very young. The crosswalks are busy with all sorts of people, stylish-looking men and women, children, even a sailor. (There's a big naval base in Waukegan and I remember visiting my grandma and seeing sailors in their bell-bottoms and Popeye hats, almost always walking in two's and three's.)
The painting reminded me of how my grandmother used to say that she was a "city person" and how much I liked the sound of that, because I thought my grandmother was the coolest person in the world, and I loved visiting her in her little downtown apartment, I loved the door buzzer and the accordian gate on the elevator, I loved eating crackers and canned sardines for dinner, and I loved going down to the candy store in the storefront of her building for caramel popcorn.
Starting with that first taste of urban life, I grew up knowing that I'd eventually move to New York, and I did, and I lived there for many years thinking that I'd never leave. But I did. And when I discovered the outdoors, the pleasures of living near the land, desert, mountains, forest, weather, animals, for a while I thought I might not be a city person after all or not any more.
Maybe some day I'll move to the desert. It seems like a good place to end up. (A good place to die at any rate because it's so dry your body will become dessicated and return to the elements faster.) But when I came to San Francisco last year to finish Life in a Box, I knew I would stay. I had the same feeling I had the first time I visited New York. The same feeling I had when I used to visit my grandma in Waukegan.
-- Stephen Cheslik-DeMeyer at the late and missed luckygreendress.com, February 2006
His Grandmother in Waukegan Read More »
I've been all over the world and have lived among every kind of culture and I can say, without any hesitation, that the most ignorant, rude, selfish, and self-centered people on earth are babies.
-- Dan Liebert
The concept of the welfare state edged into the American consciousness and into American institutions more through the scientific bureaus of government than by any other way, and more through the problems raised by the public domain than through any other problems, and more through the labors of John Wesley Powell than through any other man. In its origins it probably owes nothing to Marx, and it was certainly not the abominable invention of Franklin Delano Roosevelt and the Brain Trust. It began as public information and extended gradually into a degree of control and paternalism increased by every national crisis and every stemp of the increasing concentration of power in Washington. The welfare state was present in embryo in Joseph Henry's Weather Bureau in the eighteen-fifties. It moved a long step in the passage of what Henry Adams called America's "first modern act of legislation," when the King and Hayden Surveys were established in 1867. . . . it would assume almost its contemporary look in the trust-busting and conservation activities of Theodore Roosevelt at the dawn of the next century. But what Powell and the earlier Adams and Theodore Roosevelt thought of as the logical development of American society, especially in the West, was by no means universally palatable by 1890 -- or by 1953. It looked dangerous; it repealed the long habit of a wide-open continent; it recanted a faith.
-- Wallace Stegner, Beyond the Hundredth Meridian: John Wesley Powell and the Second Opening of the West (Lincoln, Neb.: Bison Books, 1982 [orig. pub. 1953]), 334.
John Wesley Powell and State Expansion Read More »
Yesterday, I got a 1/4 of a photocopied "Ron Paul, hope for America...be apart of it" page (8.5x11 quartered? not sure how to say it best) tied to my front door knob with a piece of string . . . tied with a piece of string? Creeped me out.
For the stuffing, simmer heart and liver together with seasoning in 2 cups water, until tender. Chop fine. Sauté onion in some of the butter. Grate apple. Mix chopped heart and liver with crumbs, seasoning, apple, and onion, and moisten with stock. Fill pig with stuffing being careful not to overfill, as it will split. Sew opening together.
Insert a small block of wood in mouth to hold it open. Lower the eyelids and fasten shut. (The butcher should have removed eyeballs.) Skewer legs firmly in place, the forelegs forward and the hindlegs in a crouching position. Rub whole pig well with melted butter, dredge with flour, salt, and pepper. Cover ears and tail with foil, to prevent burning.
Place roast on rack in uncovered oven in 450°F oven for 15 minutes. Reduce heat to 325°F and roast until tender, allowing 30 minutes to the pound. Baste every 15 minutes with drippings, do not use water. For the final 15 minutes, remove foil from ears and tail.
Place roasted pig on a large platter or board. Place cranberries in eyes, a carrot or lemon or apple in mouth. Drape a garland of cranberries around the neck. Garnish platter or board with bed of watercress and/or parsley and red cinnamon apples or spiced crabapples.
-- The First Ladies Cookbook (New York: GMG Publishing, 1982), 166.
Theodore Roosevelt’s Roast Suckling Pig Read More »